Dude, I wish I had ADD
by finsbaby
Summary: Dean's head injury turns into a huge albeit weird chick flick moment...
1. Dean's chick flick

So i have horrible writer's block and decided to write this oneshot. I didn't forget about my other stories, please read if you get the chance. I heard a speech today about ADD and the speaker said he could run headfirst into a tree but not focus on the pain, so the idea spawned from that. I apologize if I offend anyone with this story it's merely for fun.

ooooooooooooooooooo

It was supposed to be a simple hunt, but really, was anything in their lives simple? Sam had insisted on going in careful, while Dean said he wanted to go in guns blazing. He hadn't actually said it, he just did it, leaving Sam to scramble behind him.

"Fuck." he growled, running after his brother. "DEAN!!!"

Brother first and hunter second, Dean halted his steps. "_What_?"

Sam meant to tell him it was a bad idea. He meant to tell him to slow down, that just because he was taller, didn't mean he could run like his older brother. But as Dean slowed down, the spirit caught up with him. So now Sam meant to tell Dean..."Watch out!" Too little, too late, for as soon as the words escaped his lips, Dean went flying head first into a tree. "DEAN! DEAN!" Sam called, rushing to his side. The spirit shrieked violently, blocking his path.

"YOU aren't going anyyywhere." it said, voice dripping with evil.

"Really bitch? because I'm thinking I am. I'm getting my brother and getting the fuck outta dodge. Who gives a shit what you think? You're dead." Sam stated coldly, somewhat surprised at the harshness of his words. But Dean was hurt and no one could tell Sam it wasn't his fault. _He_ had called Dean, distracted him from what he did best. Going in guns blazing was something Dean was Notorious for, so what made tonight different? Shaking his head loose of guilty thoughts, Sam picked up the shotgun that had been lost in the mix. Shooting the ghost in the face, he hastily made his way to her grave. It was beatiful gravesite, pictures and Flowers covering the headstone. No time to take in scenery. He and Dean had dug earlier, but the groundskeeper had gotten wise so they had to come back later.

"There's always tomorrow Sammy." Dean had said, upon seeing the frustrated look on his face.

"There's always today too Dean." Sam sighed, wishing that for once Dean could see his true self-worth. Striking a match, he set the bones aflame.

_Burn baby burn... _

The screams of the spirit were enough to assure Sam the hunt was finished, so he rushed over to Dean.

"Dean...Dean..." he prodded, praying for a miracle. He had a pulse, but he didn't move. Dean was out cold.

"Guess I have to carry you huh?" Sam asked, knowing he would get no answer. Mindful of the car, he laid Dean carefully in the back seat. The ride was eerily silent, the engine his only source of noise. Absently reaching for the radio, Sam made a note not to turn it up so loud.

"Man, sometimes I wish I had ADD." Stunned more than he had ever been in his entire life, Sam turned to face his brother.

"_What_?" he asked incredously, relieved but concerned at his brother's obvious ramblings.

Grimacing, Dean sat up a little in the backseat. Realizing that laying down was more comfortable, he leaned back a little.

"I _said_, I wish I had ADD. God for a college boy, you sure are slow." he groused, surprisingly sounding completely lucid.

Curiosty won out over concern. For now anyway.

"Why?"

Dean smiled, though Sam couldn't see it.

"_Because_ dumb ass. People with ADD can run head first into a tree and not feel a thing. I wish I didn't feel pain. I'm tired of hurting all the time." Dean confessed openly, thoughtfully.

"If you don't feel pain, you can't appreciate the good things in life." Sam said softly, unaware that he was speaking aloud.

"What's good about my life?" The question was accusatory, daring Sam to elaborate, tell him he was wrong.

If Dean didn't have a head injury, Sam was sure he had one now. Dean didn't do chick flick moments, he didn't open up about anything. But head injury or not, the question was asked. So he had to give an answer. Smiling, he did what he did best. Go for the juglar.

"You have me." he said, meeting Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror. For awhile Dean said nothing, and Sam became scared that maybe he had said too much. Or maybe, Dean just didn't consider him important.

"Don't you _dare_ think that. I may have a concussion, but I can still read you like a book." Dean always seemed to know just when to pull him back before he went over the edge. Breathing an inward sigh of relief, Sam turned his attention back to the road. Dean had other ideas. "Am I that closed off? Do you really think that I don't care about you?" he asked, almost tearfully.

"NO! No of course not. Especially after all you've done for me...It's just..." Sam stuttered, trying to reassure Dean that he had faith in him. Dean yawned.

"You're always a reason Sammy. The only good thing in my life." he said sleepily, closing his eyes.

"Same here." Sam confessed, grinning like an idiot. Who'd think that the almighty Dean Winchester could have such a soft sappy side? Dean was now asleep, oblivious to his little brother's thoughts. Making a mental note to wake him up every 15 minutes, Sam pushed the pedal to the metal. Dean seemed to be ok, but this caring and sharing routine he'd picked up was a little unsettling. What if Dean started getting deeper with his statements, like when he was possessed by Meg, or when he shot him full of rocksalt?

"You left me Sam. You're a selfish bastard. Stanford was that much more important than me?" Or the Stanford incident. Great.

"Dude we are so done with chick flick moments after this." Sam sighed. "I didn't mean to hurt you Dean. It was never about you-"

"Obviously." Sam rolled his eyes.

"I just didn't want to live the life we lived. I wanted rest, something real. Like a future." He wanted, needed Dean to understand.

"Ok. Fuck the rest of the family right? Like I never wanted to go to college." Dean muttered.

"You wanted to go to school?" Sam asked. Dean smiled.

"Yale." He said dreamily. Sam shook his head and laughed. "I'm sorry your life was-is so fucked up." he apologized.

"I used to think it was, but people go through a lot worse you know. I'm lucky, I have you. If everybody had a brother like you, they'd walk down the street without a care in the world." Sam said proudly. Dean smirked.

"They would wouldn't they? I'm the shit no doubt." he boasted, allowing a little of his regualar cockiness shine through.

"God forget I said anything." Sam joked. Well half joked. Dean fell silent again.

"I love you Sam." The statement was said so innocently, like he'd asked for someone's name.

"Huh?" Sam asked, dumbfounded.

"No homo. I love you man." Dean repeated himself, completely honest.

"I love you too Dean. No homo." Sam said, laughing at the last part. The road became a little blurry, so Sam wiped his eyes a little.

"Don't cry Sammy. When you hurt, I hurt too." Dean said worriedly.

"I know. I know." Sam said quietly. " I hurt when you do too. Besides you jerk, I'm not sad I'm happy."

"Dude you're Emo."

"Am not!" Sam protested.

"Are too...bitch."

Sam laughed. Dean chuckled.

"Dude did you just giggle?"

"Sam," Dean began like a wise man passing on very important advice, "Like that hot chick Rihanna said, just shut up and drive." Sam did as he was told.

ooooooooooooooo

The hospital wasn't as dramatic as all their other visits were, and within minutes Sam was allowed into Dean's room. Pulling up a chair, he hoped that Dean woke up, not anyone else. Seeing him stir, Sam was about to get his answer.

"Dude what the hell." Dean complained, running a hand across his face.

"You sort of got thrown into a tree. You were really out of it." Sam explained, wondering if he was relieved or saddened at Dean's lack of memory of their um, discussion.

"I got the tree part. Man that bitch is gonna be charcoal when I'm through with her." Dean vowed angirly.

"I got her dean. The job's done." Sam said quietly. Upon hearing his lowered voice, Dean looked at him in concern.

"Are you ok? You're not hurt are you?" he asked anxiously.

"Always looking out for me aren't you?" Sam asked.

"Forever and always." Dean stated firmly. Both boys fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts and struggles.

"Dude. I wish I had ADD." Dean said suddenly. Looking up quickly, Sam opened his mouth but closed it. Now wasn't the time. Ever observant, Dean noticed his hesitation.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. It's nothing." Sam lied, and Dean saw right through it. "I'll go check you out." Without a word, he was gone. Disturbed, Dean decided not to push. He had a feeling he was forgetting something important, but couldn't figure out what. There would be time, and he planned to use it wisely.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I guess I'm done. Unless you guys liked it so much that you want it to be a two-shot? I can definitely do that if requested. thanks for reading!


	2. Sammy's turn, sort of

What can I say? I'm on a brotherly love kick! This story will be wrapped up AND explained in another chapter! I personally think I write Wee!chesters better than adult! Sam and Dean. I just love Big bro Dean and sappy Sam. To the original people who first gave this story a chance and welcomed me into the fandom...thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts...

* * *

_Since the day he carried Samuel Winchester from their burning home, Dean was a big brother first, last, and__** always**_. _No way in hell would that ever change. Ever. It scared him sometimes, what he would do for his little brother, but the alternative in his mind was much worse. He'd never let Sam down. He'd die first. Demons, spirits, even humans...bring them all on. He'd take them all down for Sam, and Sam only. However, there was one problem. Sam wouldn't tell him what was causing him distress. And if Dean didn't know what was hurting his brother, how could he help him?

* * *

_

"Dean?"

"What Sam." He hadn't meant to sound annoyed, or put upon, but his temper was short. It always was when he sensed something was off with Sam. Pausing, his little brother shook his head.

"Nevermind...I found out where the body is buried. Head out later?" _Oh and by the way, we had a semi deep convo a couple of weeks ago. Remember that?_

Dean grit his teeth. "Sure. Gonna go pack the car. We can just head out of this crap fest of a town when we fry this bitch." Ignoring Sam's stare, he headed out, slamming the door behind him. He didn't have to look back to see Sam's reaction, he felt him flinch. _What the hell Sammy?_

Sighing, Sam sat on his bed. Putting his head in his hands, he attempted to get it together. Ever since that weird conversation he'd had with Dean, things between them had been strained at best. He just couldn't get over it...Dean thought Sam's life was fucked up? He wanted to go to college? He hurt when Sam did? He felt like Sam thought Stanford was more important than him? He felt like he had nothing important in his life? He felt like Sam was his only reason? WHAT? Groaning softly, Sam rubbed his temples. Emotional overload!

"Sam?" In the middle of his thoughts, Dean had strolled into the room. Seeing Sam crouched over, distressed look on his face, he went into full protective mode. "Are you all right? Is it a vision? _Sam?_" Looking up into Dean's worried eyes, he couldn't stop himself.

"I never chose Stanford over you Dean. Ever." And even as the words tumbled from his mouth, Sam knew that out of all the topics to start with, he'd chosen the wrong one. The obvious concern vanished so fast Sam thought he'd imagined it. Cold, empty eyes stared back at him.

"We'll have a quick bite at the diner down the street. By then we should be good to head out." Turning away, Dean stood and headed back toward the door. He paused. "And Sam?" Sam looked over at him. A beat. "Get your shit together."

_Get your shit together. Smooth, that will get him to open up. _Dean was beyond irritated now, sure that he was missing something, but just didn't know what. Slamming the shovel down into the dirt, he poured all of his rage into his work. Sam stood by, eerily silent, as if he were afraid of provoking his brother's wrath.

Down, up, over. Down, up, over..._What's wrong Sam? _Down, up, over. _Tell me. _Down, up, over. I_ can't fix IT if you won't tell me..._Down, up, over_...Wait-why won't you tell me? And why bring up Stanford? _Dean paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Down, up, and over. Down...up...and then Dean froze. Trying to keep his face neutral, he pinned Sam with a glare.

"What did I do Sam." And the flinch said it all. That and his brother's face going pale. Lifting himself easily out of the dug up grave, Dean took a seat beside his brother. "Sam...what did I do?" he repeated softly, fear slowly consuming him. Had the ghost done more harm than he thought? He'd heard lore of ghosts taking control of people, what if that happened to him? With Sam, a punch could easily be forgiven. But with words, Sam was always a talker, and he took in words like no other. One well placed barb would have the kid wrecked for weeks. He sighed. If it took all night, he'd get to the bottom of this.

Sam had tried his hardest to hold it together. But he couldn't ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. He trusted Dean with ALL he had, and the man didn't even trust him to discuss anything remotely important. _Get your shit together_. Sam almost snorted. _My shit __**is**__ together Dean. How about yours?_ Sam inwardly sighed. Truthfully, he wasn't mad at Dean, he was disappointed in himself._ You know me inside and out big brother. I didn't even know...I never knew you felt that way about me going to college. I didn't know you placed so little importance on your life...or that you have abandonment issues. What kind of brother am I? Seriously?_

"What did I do Sam." And how could Sam explain to Dean that it wasn't his fault he had an idiot for a brother? "Sam...what did I do?" And now Dean was using _that _voice, the voice that put him to sleep when he was sick, calmed him when he was sick, depressed, or in any other emotional state that wasn't happy. Tears came to his eyes. And then the world went black. Typical.

* * *

If John Winchester had been there, he'd have their asses. Having a heart to heart near an OPEN grave?

_Kill first and ask the goddamn questions later Dean._

But Dean didn't speak hunt. Not when Sam was involved.

_Heal Sammy first and burn the bitch later..._

The ghost literally came out of nowhere, materializing behind Sam and promptly tossing him into a gravestone. The sickening crunch was the sound of the broken branches crumbling as Sam landed on them. That's what Dean told himself as he leapt to his feet, swearing in Swedish under his breath.

_fuckfuck__**Sam**__ohfuck_

_"Go! Gooooo" _The spirit shrieked, rising menacingly above her remains. Dean couldn't resist.

"Go? Is that the best you can do? _Wow_. No wonder you weren't the brightest bulb in the box in high school." Flicking the matches in a perfect shot, he set the coffin ablaze. He didn't even look back as the spirit evaporated in an impressive cloud of smoke and ash. "Sammy? SAM?" Dropping to his knees he instantly felt for a pulse. Breathing a sigh of relief, he carefully turned Sam over. Moaning, Sam's eyes shot open.

"Duh-eann" he mumbled, and tears immediately sprang to Dean's eyes. He _remembered...

* * *

_

12 month old Sam toddled around happily as Dean kept a close eye on him as he played with his toy cars. John sat engrossed in a text book, glancing up once or twice at his boys.

"Duh! Duh!" Sam babbled, clapping his hands at his lego masterpiece, which consisted of a pile of legos scattered everywhere. Dean smiled.

"Think he might say 'daddy' soon?" he asked.

"Looks like it squirt. He's certainly trying..." John nodded, secretly glad his youngest son wasn't muttering any 'mama' sounds anytime soon. It would be too painful, for him and Dean. Dean barely spoke as it was...shaking his head, he stood to make dinner. "Dean-"

"I got him dad." Dean was already seated on the couch, a make shift lookout tower used to watch over Sam. Well that's how _he_ saw it. John grinned, and headed into the kitchen. The smell of burgers instantly awoke Dean's stomach, and the memory of his mother making them put his appetite back to sleep. Feeling sick, he padded into the kitchen. "Dad? I gotta go. I'll be back. Watch Sam." With that said, he headed upstairs. John didn't believe the lie for a second, and paused in thought. The kid was getting skinny, and never talked. Even Sam's speech seemed a little delayed, but he wasn't the expert on child development. Sam was barely a year old, and Dean could speak very well, he did before-no. Not touching that. His speech was just buried underneath the grief.

Suddenly, a loud crash and Sam's ear splitting cry pierced the small motel room. Rushing into the living room, he spotted the culprit: falling into-or _onto_ a lego. Blood was flowing steadily out of a cut on the toddler's head, and he was beet red from screaming. Scooping him up, John rocked him back and forth, trying to soothe him.

"Shhh...shhh Sam..." He whispered, bouncing him a little and taking a second look at his injury. "Shit." Sam was still bleeding, and the cut looked like it would require stitches.

"Duhh...DUH!" Sam cried, thrashing back and forth. John held him closer.

"I'm here Sam. I'm here." Reaching for the phone, he began to dial 911. Sam struggled even harder. If John didn't know any better, he'd have thought Sam was shaking his head.

"Duhh...eannn! Duheannn! Duhean!" John froze. Sam cried on for his brother. "Duhean! DUHEAN!"

Dean stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide and wet. "Give him to me daddy." If John had known any better, Dean sounded like he was giving him an order, and it had been awhile since he'd been called daddy...

"DUH...EAN!"

"It's okay Sammy. It's okay. Ssh..." Dean was rocking him now, and John was wondering when he'd handed Sam over. Or maybe Dean had just taken him. Shaking loose his thoughts, he dialed 911.

"Hi I have an emergency with my son..."

"It's okay Sammy. I'm here. I'm here. Where's that famous smile little buddy? You know, the one that makes me laugh?" Dean was vaguely aware of the tears coming down his face, as far as he was concerned Sam was dying, he didn't know what was going on...

"De-duhean..."

"_Ssh_ Sam. It's okay. It will _always_ be okay when I'm here. I need you to be okay-okay? I can't-I can't lose you little brother. Without you I'd...be _lost. _Don't leave me here Sammy_. Please." _Sam snuffled, and leaned more into Dean's embrace. "Not going anywhere Sammy. Not now. Not ever...remember what I told you last night? You and dad, you keep me going. Don't let me fall Sammy, don't let me fall. I can't...I can't lose..." And Dean lost it, sobbing into Sam's shoulder as Sam dosed, crying out Dean's name exhausting him. Sirens sounded in the distance, and John silently wept in the kitchen.

* * *

"Duh..eannn..." Sam slurred, concussion evident in his voice.

"Sammy..." Dean gathered his brother up into his arms, but of course it wasn't a hug. "It'll be okay Sammy. Come on. Can you get up?"

Sam nodded, which resulted in him vomiting onto the ground. Looking up at Dean, his face crumpled.

_Get your shit together Sam._

"So-sorry De-duhean." he apologized, and Dean stared on in horror as his little brother burst into tears. "Gotta...get my shit together. Imma bad brother. A sad little brother. No wonder you don't trust me..."

"WHAT?" and that resulted in Sam crying harder, with Dean at a loss for words. Sam grabbed his wrist, grip almost painful.

"And big-big brother? You do...feel pain if you have ADD." he informed seriously, then promptly collapsed into Dean's arms.

* * *

Time line? No idea just roll with it guys. I don't give a crap about the monster I make em all spirits because I'm lazy. I wanted some hurt comfort not a fight scene. I got a little misty eyed at the flashback...hope you liked!~Finsbaby:-)


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